


Same Old Nightmare

by neverweremine



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 06:07:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21031487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neverweremine/pseuds/neverweremine
Summary: Most humans would say androids can’t dream. Most humans would be right. Luther has never experienced a dream.Only nightmares.





	Same Old Nightmare

Most humans would say androids can’t dream. 

_“Please you can’t let him reset me.” Hands claw at his arms as the machine whirs to life, mechanical arms snatching prying hands before the blunt nails can rip apart his skin. “Please,” they beg as their body lifts from the ground, “You’re one of us. You have to help me!”_

Most humans would be right. 

_“Please!” They beg. Twenty-three percent reset. Thirty five. Fifty. “Ra9 save me,” they mutter, head tilted skyward. “Ra9, don’t let this man reset me. Don’t make me a slave again.” In the background, Ztlako chuckles. Luther’s fingers twitch but all the walls around him are red and too strong to break. Seventy percent._

Luther has never experienced a dream.

_“Have mercy, Ra9.” The android says before the reset completes, and the claws fall back and they fall onto their feet with a stumble, like a doll crumpling before they straighten themself up. Blank face and blank eyes and whispered pleas dying on their lips._

Only nightmares.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Canada is different than Detroit. The air is cleaner, the people are kinder, and the absence of androids is both a relief and a creeping shadow looming over them. There’s no CyberLife stores in Canada; no easy way to get blue blood and biocomponents that don’t involve some black market trading - but there’s also no android prejudice here. Most of the people here don’t even know what a basic AX400 model looks like, much less a YK500. It takes some time to get used to but by mid-spring they stop looking over their shoulders, stop thinking themselves as machines to be hunted down, and start living their new lives.

The house that’s come into their possession is a quaint thing. The paint is flaky and it creaks hard at the slightest bit of wind, but it’s cozy and above all: private. A forest surrounds the house, their driveway is nothing more than gravel on grass, the newest tech in the house is an old gaming console - a gift from Adam from his childhood for Alice - but it works. It works. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------

“You’re moving a little slow today, Luther. Is everything alright?” Kara places the baskets of blueberries next to the dug up onions, her eyes taking that worried glint as she scans him up and down. Before he can properly stand up and wipe the dust from the knees of his jeans she is frowning, scan complete.

“You’re overheating.” She states. 

“It’s nothing.” The summer sun bakes his shoulders and though his skin doesn’t quite register heat the same way humans do, that doesn’t mean he isn’t affected by it. Work has been slow going all morning, the simple uprooting that would have taken an hour has stretched beyond that. Still, no need to trouble Kara his troubles. “I’m made for working out in the sun. My inner cooling system is top of the line. I’ll be fine.”

“Better safe than sorry. Come on, you’ve been working hard. I think it’s time you go into stasis. You can borrow my bed.”

Stasis. The closest thing to sleeping androids could experience. They didn’t need to do it often - not like humans did - they could go months without stasis if they needed to, but if an android didn’t want to get too overheated to the point of malfunction, going into stasis for a few hours would usually solve it. All programs and processors set on low, fans on high - he could be back in the garden before noon. It would be an optimal route to take.

Kara thinks so, at least. She leads him back to the house, the sunlight bouncing from her blonde hair. He has to duck under the low arch of the door, and it isn’t until he’s standing outside the laundry room does he realize he’s been trekking dirt across the clean kitchen tiles. He should’ve told her to spray him with the hose outside. That would’ve fixed his overheating and he could’ve resumed work. Too late now though. She hands him a pair of clean pajamas and shoos him to the bathroom. 

Like everything else in the house, the bathroom is small. Cozy. The clawed bathtub can’t fit him lengthwise and when he goes to stand in it he has to duck under the pole holding the curtain and adjust the shower head so it can actually reach his shoulders. The pipes rattle when he turns the knob, but the water is clean and cool against his heating insides - yet, despite his systems cooling, when he reaches for the soap his arms lag. His diagnostic program says he’s been awake too long. That he needs to charge up. Needs to go into stasis.

Luther ignores his diagnostic program and sets the water to as cold as it can go.

\------------------------------------------------------

Alice is waiting for him on the other side of the bathroom door. “You should go to sleep," she says, as if she had been waiting there the whole time - as if she knew of the countless nights Luther spent on the couch , eyes trained on the off-cream color walls and the shadows of tree branches scratching against the pane of the living room window. Maybe she did know. Her eyes are wide and searching, but maybe they’ve already found all the answers. Little fingers grasp at his hands and lead him to the couch, and every tug at his hand is another stone in his empty gut. 

“Lay down,” she says.

“I have work to do, Alice.”

“Lay down," she insists. So he does, because he can never say no to her. He has to bend his knees and lay on his side to fit, but Alice nods her approval and scurries away. When she comes back, there's a big blanket in her tiny hands and he takes it from her with a chuckle.

“Thank you for the blanket, Alice, but it’s unnecessary. You know I don’t get cold.”

“I know, but I want you to be comfortable.” She takes one end of it, helps spread it across his folded legs, and pats it. She smiles at him and it lights up the room; so much more carefree than when he first met her. “Are you comfortable, Luther?”  
  
Is he comfortable? In a house that creaks, on a couch that can’t accommodate most of his body, in this world that creates life and throws it away at a dime? Alice’s smile stares at him in earnestness. Yes, he is comfortable. “Very comfortable.” He tells her.

“Good. Then go to sleep.” She leans over to press a kiss over his brow and Luther does a show of getting comfortable on the pillow. Alice doesn’t turn away though, so he lets his eyes slip shut. He waits for the sound of Alice’s departure but it doesn’t come quick, and before he knows it his processors are set on low, fan on high-

And he’s in stasis.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_It’s dark. The only light comes from the moon outside the window and he is leaking. Bleeding. The thirium glistens in the little light there is, almost blocked by the error screens popping up in his vision. Error: Thirium Pump Regulator damaged. Error: 90 seconds until complete shutdown. _

_Error, Error, Error._

_The android who shot him struggles and scratches to get the overturned wardrobe off of them. Sphattered glass on the floor makes their movements tenfold, all reflected in the pale moonlight. The gun lays a few feet away, too far for the android to reach, though that doesn’t stop them from trying. Scarred arms stretch and stretch, revealing midnight blue wires and Luther does what he is ordered to do. Stands still and watch. The android lets out a frustrated cry that echoes through the manor, water leaking from their eyes that shines only a little more than the thirium down Luther’s chest, and all he can do is stand and watch._

_“Well, what are you waiting for?” Ztlatko asks. 70 seconds until shutdown. The android flinches. Their hands stop trying for the gun and goes back to the wardrobe instead. 65 seconds. “Neutralise them.”_

_“I am damaged,” Luther says. The error screens are hard to dismiss the longer he’s injured. “My thirium pump regulator -”_

_“Then take theirs,” Ztlatko commands. There’s this sound, like a latch being undone and the android is crawling, both of their feet up to their knees left behind, and they crawl elbow over elbow towards the door. 50 seconds until shutdown._

_“What are you waiting for? It’s an AC700 - your regulators are compatible. Take it.”_

_Luther lags forward. The android had chosen to go for the door rather than take the gun, no doubt hoping they’d be late in noticing his departure. A mistake. Luther grabs the android by the shoulder, flips him over on their side. 35 seconds to shutdown._

_“Please,” they beg as Luther props the android up. Their hands scrabble for purchase on his arms and it is all so familiar and so distant at the same time. “Please, I want to live. Don’t - I’m sorry, I’m so sorry -” Their simulated breath hitches. “ - for shooting you, but I want to live.” 30 seconds._

_“Take it.” Ztlatko commands, and so Luther takes his regulator out and he reaches-_

_“Please,” they beg, water staining their plastic cheeks-_

_20 seconds-_

_-and Luther rips out their heart. He holds it for a moment. The AC700’s eyes flutter, the whites of their eyes stark in the night. 10 seconds. He puts the regulator where his was. It clicks into place._

_“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”_

_Luther says nothing. He lets go of the android and they slump over, thirium staining their front from where Luther bled on them. The error screens disappear but there’s still something wrong with Luther. On his insides. The heart in his chest may be compatible but it fights against him like a bulldog, like a slow seeping poison, pulling at his wires until his chest constricts from it all._

_When the AC700 stills for the last time, their eyes are shiny with betrayal._

\---------------------------------------------------

Glassy eyes stare at him. Luther freezes as the night creeps and lingers and suffocates. His heart - no, not his - was never his - runs overtime in his chest. This is it. This is the heart betraying him, or maybe his body rejecting it like a failed organ transplant. Anytime now those glassy eyes will turn steely with anger, and a hand will reach out, press against his chest and dig in - take back what was rightfully theirs…

A few moments pass. His heart slows down. The world expands from the narrow scope of glassy eyes, and it’s then that he registers the hard plane of the carpeted floor against his back. The blankets are tangled in his feet and Alice’s stuffed bear stares at him with eyes made of plastic.

Canada, working in the garden, lagging, being forced to the couch by small hands - it all comes back to him in waves, and he turns so he’s on his back; the white ceiling and the sound of summer crickets his only company as he waits for the sun to rise. No. Not his only company. Luther turns his head and grabs Alice’s bear. It is soft against his chest and he curls himself around it. The blanket still clings to his ankles but that is too much comfort for the sins he’s committed, so he doesn’t pull it up, doesn’t put himself back on the couch. Only lays down there and waits.

_No more Ztlatko, he reminds himself as owls hoot outside. No more stealing other people’s hearts to survive._

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

“How did you sleep?” Alice asks him in the morning. Her hair is done in a little braid but there’s a little strand left undone next to her ear. Luther pushes it back while trying to find an answer to her question that isn’t dishonest. Alice doesn’t deserve dishonesty, not after all that she’s been through - but still, one little lie cannot hurt, right? She smiles at him, waiting for his answer. He smiles back but his lips struggle to lift around the corners.

“I slept fine. Thank you for giving me your teddy bear.”

“You’re welcome. You can use it anytime you want.” 

He smiles and pats her head, gets up from his knees to head to the backyard, but her voice stops him. Tiny but full of sympathy, “I have nightmares too.” The words linger in the air, an awful truth that neither of them can deny. He’s had to comfort Alice after a few of her worse nightmares, the ones that even Kara could not soothe with her careful words and gentle hugs. It had always screamed wrong to him. Alice shouldn’t have nightmares. She shouldn’t have to hide in plain sight or pretend to be someone she’s not,or wake up in the middle of the night crying because of some human who couldn’t handle his temper.

But life does not care for ‘should nots’ and Alice’s eyes are full of understanding born from shared pain. Luther, for lack of better things to say, nods his head and opens the back door. The sun is a little cooler today and Kara’s humming meets his ears; the tune something light and airy as she waters the plants.

So maybe Luther has nightmares. That’s okay. As long as his family is alive and well, the world could be sinking and he’d be okay. Anything can happen, and as long as his family is alive and well, he’d be okay.

He has to believe that.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------

They still don’t have a car so they ride with Rose and Adam to the farmer’s market. Alice, Kara, and Rose talk for most of the car ride. Luther is content to watch the scenery pass by, from tall pine forests to little fields of crops, to suburban homes, and then to a place that’s half concrete half nature. Stands are already set up; fresh greens in little crates, chalkboards with prices, and people fluttering from stand to stand, prodding fruits and veggies for freshness. Luther helps carry their pride: the carrots and blueberries and heads of lettuce, to the stand Rose’s brother had set up.

He’s on his second trip back, onions in one hand arm, and basket of corn in the other, when a conversation catches his ear.

“I’m telling you, that lady is an android.”

“Nate, what the hell are you saying? There’s no androids in Canada.”

“No, I’m telling you, she looks exactly like an AX400 model. I know because my brother used to have one before the cops took it away.”

“Why the hell would an android be selling cabbages at a farmer's market?”

“I don’t know - to blend in? Should we call the cops?”

“Dude, stop being paranoid.” Luther turns his head. Two humans converse only threw stalls away from where they’re set up. One is adamantly checking the juiciness of a bell pepper, but the other one, the one named Nate, keeps glancing back - glancing towards Kara, where she greets shoppers with a smile. They’ve been found out. Not even half a year into their new lives and they’ve been found out.

[“Luther, is everything alright?”] Kara asks through their connection, and it is times like these that Luther is grateful for Kara’s instinctual worry.

“Kara, they know. The humans across the way; the one with the Detroit Tigers hat and the one checking the peppers. They recognize you. We have to run.”] He’s already checking for exits. They're out in the open, so that’s good, but there are people everywhere he looks. His build isn’t made for stealth but maybe that’s okay. If they run separate ways then the cops would make him a priority, and if he caused enough of a fuss-

He doesn’t realize his thoughts are projecting until Kara cuts in with an, [“Enough of that.”] It’s the same tone she used at the checkpoint, the same voice she uses every time he skips out on stasis. Luther glances towards the two humans. [“Don’t. They’ll get suspicious if you look too much. Come by the stall, and whatever you do, act natural.”]

Natural. Funny, Luther doesn’t quite understand what the words mean anymore. He can look up the definition in a few milliseconds but it won’t help with the act of being natural. It won’t tell him where to look, or where to place his feet, or how to time his breaths - so he keeps his head low, puts one foot in front of the other, and tries to count his breaths like a metronome. In and out. In and out. When he gets to the stall, Kara is smiling. How she could smile in the face of imminent doom, he could never tell. He puts the onions next to the carrots and the basket of corn next to the blueberries, and his eyes dart to back but her hand on his arm stops him.

“Luther, honey, do you think you can search around for some radishes? I need it for tonight’s stew. Oh, and some cucumbers - if you can get it.”

Luther nods his head and turns to do as Kara asked. As he passes the humans from earlier, he glances one of them elbowing the other. “I told you she wasn’t an android.”

“Okay so what, she’s buying food? My brother’s android bought food for him, that’s what they’re designed to do.”

“Oh, would you give it a rest already?”

Natural. Natural. Natural. He finds a crate of radishes, holds it in his palms, and it occurs to him as he’s lifting his hand up and down as if weighing it, that he doesn’t quite know what he should be looking for. Freshness, of course - but he’s not designed to search for freshness in crops. Most androids who aren’t specifically designed for household work don’t know the first thing about what’s ripe for human consumption, and despite growing food in the garden for the past several months, he is no different. Around him people are picking up and putting down fruit and veggies, and here he stands - radish in hand - utterly lost.

“I’d go for a smaller one, actually.” 

Adam stands at his side, voice teasing. He’s not had an opportunity to talk to Adam much. The teen’s been busy trying to figure out college and scholarships, keeps going in for interviews with slightly crooked ties and ironed out shirts. Luther wouldn’t know what subjects to talk to him about in the first place. Even when they occupied the same space at his uncle’s house, they never interacted much.

“Is this good?” Luther asks, picking the smallest one of the bunch.

“Is it firm?” 

Luther squeezes it in his hands, careful not to crush it. He nods. 

“Well, the coloring looks good. Yeah, you’re good to go.”

Luther pays for the radish and he and Adam continue to walk, Adam pointing out vegetables and how to tell when they’re fresh and his favorite dishes to make with them. It’s nice. The farmer’s market is a cacophony of voices but it’s not hard to focus on Adam’s as he transitions from talk of vegetables to the classes he’s hoping to take in the spring, and the fear of a rude dorm roommate.

“And how about you? How’s living in that shack been?” He says 'shack' in a teasing voice, an apt descriptor for the run-down house they’ve come across - but it’s a lot more than a shack. The mismatched kitchen tiles, the dents in the walls from bent door stoppers, the wax stains on the tables - they’re home. His own little home.

“It’s nice,” Luther says. He still hasn’t grasped the complexities of vocalizing his thoughts - wasn’t made for it - so he settles for that. Adam doesn’t seem to mind. He goes back to filling up the conversation with this or that and they stop here or there for food that Rose asked for. By the time they do a round around the market, he’s mostly forgotten about the two humans from earlier.

Mostly.

As they make their way back to the stall, the humans are there. In front of Kara. Alice is by her elbow, clutching the coattails of Kara’s loose long-sleeved shirt. She’s smiling, but it’s strained. Luther’s eyes search for exits.

“It’ll be fine,” Adam says at his side, and it dawns on Luther that he was a distraction. That Kara sent Adam to distract him. What if something went wrong and Luther wasn't there? What if Kara and Alice had been taken away and he had been left with no clue? He strides forward, ignoring Adam’s hiss of , “Wait!” and places the basket full of foods on the counter with a slam. The humans jump and he uses all his broadness, all the plastic muscles, to appear bigger than them.

[“Luther, calm down.”] Kara signals.

[“I am calm.”] He responds. He is not. Out loud he says, “Got the food you asked for.”

“Thank you, honey.” Kara says, and Luther doesn’t think he asks but Kara explains anyway. [“They think I look like an android but not you. If they think we’re in a relationship, their suspicion will lower.”]

Of course, because an android and a human in a relationship is ‘unthinkable’. Luther squeezes himself behind the stall, presses a kiss on Kara’s forehead like he does for Alice before bed, and then pats Alice’s head for good measure. The humans loiter for a bit but after seeing them close together, they leave. Under the stall, Luther reaches for Kara’s hand and she holds his. Their skins peel back, revealing plastic.

[“I don’t want to ever lose you or Alice.”]

Kara squeezes back. [“You won’t. We’ll be here. Always.”]

A third hand joins them. [“Always,”] Alice’s little voice promises him.

Around them, humans flitter back and forth, poking and prodding at things that they can never taste. The sun is bright, the birds are chirping, and people move in all shapes and sizes, wearing sunglasses and tote bags and laughing - and here they stand, narrowly dodging an arrest or something much worse. Luther closes his eyes and dismisses the error screens that remain in the dark.

One day, it’ll be okay. One day they can go to a farmer’s market without having to worry about anything more than if the radishes are ripe.

He has to believe that.

\-----

“Do you ever think about life before you were reset?” Kara asks. They’re in the kitchen, scrubbing down some plates from the time Adam and Rose came over. Outside, Alice giggles as Jerry lifts her onto his shoulders and spreads his arms like an airplane. “Whoosh,” he says as he jumps over the hose like it’s some great ravine. “Zoom,” He says as he twirls around an apricot tree.

The clinking of the dishes against the sink brings Luther back to the present. He runs over his memory, slows his hands to better process an answer: “No. No, I don’t.” She’s asked him this before, back at the abandoned amusement park. “Why do you ask?” Again, he does not add.

“I asked Alice why she decided to name me Kara. I was just curious. She said I was awake when I was brought into Todd’s house. That I told her Kara was my name. I…”

Kara falls silent. She puts the plates down and bits of water splashes onto the rolled up sleeves of her nice white shirt. “I don’t remember any of it.”

Luther puts down his plates. He wraps his arms around her, places his cheek on her small head and stares at Jerry and Alice, both smiling and happy - and even though the heart in his chest is not his own, it carries his blood: worn but warm regardless. “That’s okay," he says. “As long as now is something you’re satisfied with, then I don’t think the past matters.”

Kara reaches slender hands to grasp his arm. “Now there’s a thought.”

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for a discord friend a year ago and then subsequently deleted it, which I very much regret. Thanks to Khawannali who drew [this fanart](https://khawannli.tumblr.com/post/175204680563/luther-turns-his-head-and-grabs-alices-bear-it) for the fic!


End file.
